


Caught Out

by CommanderRoastedWolf



Series: Birds of a Feather [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hints of Widowtracer, Pharmercy, Prompts!, rocket angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderRoastedWolf/pseuds/CommanderRoastedWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fareeha is perfectly happy to keep her and Angela’s relationship tightly under wraps. Besides, she finds it oddly exciting sneaking into Angela’s room after hours, and then sneaking out again at the crack of dawn. Not to mention the stolen kisses between meetings, or the quick, breathless minutes in cupboards and bathrooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught Out

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Rocket angel being "sneaky" in their shows of affection for each other but tracer (and whoever else) is definitely onto them.

A touch here, a look there. Fareeha treasures each one, gathering each close to her heart and concealing them. It is difficult not to sweep Angela into a kiss whenever they win a battle, and it is especially testing when Angela leaves the team to retire to bed, eyes seeking Fareeha’s in a silent invitation as she murmurs good night.

Their secret is like a fire between them. Risking not only dismissal, but the disappointment of Overwatch for something as unprofessional and risky as fraternization, Fareeha is perfectly happy to keep her and Angela’s relationship tightly under wraps. Besides, she finds it oddly exciting sneaking into Angela’s room after hours, and then sneaking out again at the crack of dawn. Not to mention the stolen kisses between meetings, or the quick, breathless minutes in cupboards and bathrooms. All in all, Fareeha feels as though she is doing an excellent job.

So when Lena, Mei, Zarya, Hana, Reinhardt and Torbjörn corner her in Lúcio’s club in Rio and barricade her into a private booth with Angela beside her, she doesn’t quite know what to think. “What’s this about?” Angela asks, her gentle hand finding Fareeha’s in her lap and tangling their fingers together under the table.

“We’re on to you.” Lena grins, waving her smuggled bottle of tequila around blithely, her pale cheeks flushed with the alcohol.

Fareeha’s heart plummets into her stomach so quickly she thinks she might be sick. Angela goes glacially still beside her, but a quick glance shows she still has a smile fixed on her face.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Fareeha wants nothing more than the world to open up and swallow her whole when the entire team glance knowingly at each other. Lena cackles like a hyena, and takes a gulp from her drink while Zarya’s mouth stretches into a massive grin that might have been terrifying if she wasn’t sporting a pair of bunny ears which clash spectacularly with her pink hair.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Mei says with a smile. “What was it you were saying, Aleksandra?”

The enormous Russian grunts a laugh. “I heard funny noises from the store cupboard on Thursday.”

“And I found a vase smashed on the second floor of the compound.” Reinherdt supplies.

Torbjörn snorts and takes a swig of the beer clutched in his prosthetic. “Angela never wears scarves in autumn. She was wearing one all last week. And in this heat?”

“It was a nice scarf.” Fareeha finally finds her voice, even though it squeaks pathetically. The others burst into a gale of laughter and Angela’s grip on her hand tightens until she can feel her heartbeat pounding in the tips of her fingers.

“The point is, we know you and Fareeha are shagging.” Lena says sweetly. “But don’t worry, only we know.”

“The whole team…” Angela’s voice sounds faint.

“Almost the whole team.” Mei nods and to Fareeha’s surprise she takes Zarya’s hand. “You’re not the only ones keeping secrets from the Commander.”

Lena giggles. “No, but Fareeha and Angela the ones who are the worst at keeping them.”

Fareeha’s cheeks feel so hot she’s sure she could fry eggs on them. Beside her, Angela is straightening in her seat like some holy Valkyrie while Fareeha shrinks away from the waves of fury rolling off her girlfriend like a storm. Impossibly, Angela’s grip on her hand tightens, and her voice is as sharp as a razor as she speaks. “At least we aren’t fucking the enemy, Lena Oxton.”

Lena’s grin vanishes so fast it might have been slapped off her. “Oi. The fuck you talkin’ about?”

“You don’t have to know. But if I hear any of this has even been hinted at to John and anyone else who doesn’t know about myself and Fareeha, you’ll be hearing more than whispers.”

The others look appropriately contrite in the face of Angela’s fury, and they all do an awkward shuffle. All except for Lena, who has gone pale. She quietly sips at her tequila, until Angela meets her eye and gives her a tiny smile.

“Now, that’s out the way,” Angela continues, “Fareeha and I are in a relationship, yes. And happily.”

“Uh, yes.” Fareeha supplies and she brings their clenched hands up onto the table, fervently wishing she could regain the feeling in her fingers.

There is a chorus of congrats - Mei presses a kiss to Zarya’s cheek. Torbjörn offers Fareeha a wink, while Reinhardt’s enormous hand claps her on the shoulder so hard she nearly has an appointment with the table. She manages to catch herself, smiling uneasily.

One by one the others go back to their business. Lena and Angela share a quiet look which Fareeha can’t even begin to fathom before the British woman has slipped away, leaving them to each other, the heavy curtains muffling the pounding base. Fareeha lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Angela leans up and presses a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“They know, then.”

“They do.”

Fear steals over her heart, and Fareeha glances nervously at her girlfriend. “Is… are we okay?”

Angela smiles, and finally loosens her grip on Fareeha’s hand to cup her cheek and stroke her thumb across her tattoo. Then she kisses it - once, twice, three times.

“Always.”


End file.
